


What the Future Brings

by thingyoudowiththatthing



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Pre stucky, can be read as both, grumpy bucky, or steve and bucky friendship, pre serum steve - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 06:13:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17299280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thingyoudowiththatthing/pseuds/thingyoudowiththatthing
Summary: Bucky worries about the future





	What the Future Brings

Bucky was grumpy as hell. The cold seemed to be seeping in everywhere in the small New York apartment. He actually loved the place. It wasn’t much. It was a bit of a mess at times, mostly thanks to Bucky himself, but it was his and Steve’s. Well, technically it was rented, but it was the first time in both their lives they had been on their own. It was a struggle every damn day, but it was worth it.

Today Bucky just had trouble remembering all the things he loved about this place or even Steve for that matter. It had been New Year’s Eve last night, which usually meant trouble. Assholes seemed to come out in bulks that night of the year. Usually, Bucky managed to steer Steve clear of most of them, but last night Steve appeared to have been particularly feisty. It had resulted in no less than three fights before Bucky finally managed to drag a coughing and wheezing Steve back home as the fireworks went off above their heads.

Usually, Bucky would have been over something like that the next morning. It was Steve after all, but this year was different. Tomorrow Bucky’s life was no longer his own. Tomorrow he started his military training. Tomorrow he wouldn’t be home every day, and tomorrow he would no longer be there to save Steve from every fight he inevitably would get himself into. It had dawned on Bucky last night as he had lied awake listening to Steve’s labored breathing.

Bucky was going off to war. Not tomorrow, but soon. Soon Steve would be alone. There would be no one to beat the bullies ass when they decided Steve was a fun punching bag that never stayed down when he ought too. There would be no one to make sure Steve used his money to get his damn medicine instead of handing it off to the beggars on the streets. There would be no one to listen for his breathing during the rough nights and no one to keep the stupid wind from turning the apartment into Antarctica.

Bucky was getting angrier and angrier at the wind coming through the leaky windows, at Steve and his stubborn, reckless, self-sacrificial nature, and at himself for his own choices, even if he knew they were the right ones to make. He was even angry at the homemade Christmas decorations Steve had made that he had put up a month ago but hadn’t gotten around to take down yet. He was angry at them for being in his way as he tried to board up the leaks around the windows. Bucky fought with the homemade festoons as they threatened to tangle him up.

“Goddammit,” Bucky growled loudly as the hammer missed its mark in his impatience to get the job done and landed over his hand rather than the nail. Bucky threw the hammer to the floor and ripped the paper festoon off the window frame just as Steve appeared in the doorway.

His hair was sticking in all directions as he rubbed his eyes, clearly woken from Bucky’s commotion and not because sleep was ready to release him yet. Any other day the vision of a confused, sleepy Steve would have made Bucky smile, but not today. Today he paid him no attention. He just hit the back of his hand against the Christmas Cards on the windowsill as another roar of anger escaped him.

“Buck. What’s wrong?” Steve’s voice was calm and warm. That was the thing. As tempered as Steve was, he never raised his voice with Bucky. Bucky honestly couldn’t remember him ever raising his voice at anyone. He spoke in a stern voice yes. He told people off, and Bucky had been on the receiving end of as many “dad talks” as he had dealt out. They kept each other in line. They brought out the best in each other, and Bucky loved Steve. He loved him for all the stupid shit that he did, not just in spite of it, but right now, Bucky wanted him to change.

He wanted Steve to stop fighting every asshole he met. He wanted Steve to be less good of a person and put himself before the people that had even less than him. He wanted Steve to take his medicine. Hell, he wanted him to never have too. He wanted Steve to be healthy so he wouldn’t have to spend every goddamn day worrying about losing him. But Bucky loved Steve, so he didn’t say any of this out loud.  

“This crappy apartment has wind coming in everywhere. Snow soon too I’m sure. Your fucking newspaper decorations tried to kill me, and piece of shit Christmas Cards with no money in them.” Bucky kicked the cards at the floor, before sending Steve a glare that would have sent most people running when his best friend threw his head back in laughter.

“What the fuck is so funny?” Bucky growled. Steve at the very least had the decency to stop laughing, but his eyes were still sparkling with amusement. It was all Bucky could do to remember he was angry when Steve looked at him like that, like he was the biggest idiot in the world, but Steve still loved him.

“Didn’t you forget to blame the hammer or maybe the guy holding it?” Steve teased, earning a scowl from Bucky. He didn’t prevent Steve from taking his hand and inspecting it. Just like Bucky had done with pretty much all of Steve last night.

“I think you’ll live,” Steve announced, and Bucky pulled back his hand, heading towards the kitchen to find something cold to put on it.

“Punk,” Bucky grumbled, but a small smile tugged at his lips when Steve answered as he followed him.

“Jerk.”

Steve sat down at the kitchen table watching Bucky cool down his hand with a bag of peas from the freezer.

“I’ll be okay, you know?” Steve spoke quietly, and Bucky’s head jerked around to look at him.

“You’re worried about me when you go. I can handle myself. I’ll be alright,” Steve spoke a little firmer, and Bucky sighed. He knew Steve hated to be treated like he was different. The truth was, most of the time Bucky didn’t see him as different than anyone else. He was his best friend. He was the one person he went too with all his worries and dreams. He just… worried.

“I know you can pal,” Bucky sat down next to Steve. “I just wish you didn’t have too. That’s all.”

Steve smiled slightly and nodded. They sat together like that for a few seconds. Quiet. Comfortable. Both of them safe for now.

“Keep that on,” Steve ordered suddenly when Bucky had let the bag slip. Steve put the peas back on top of Bucky’s hand, making him hiss.

“Jeez, Stevie. Careful,” Bucky complained but smiled when Steve grinned as he stood. “Where are you going?”

“To board up the leaks before you try again and hit another finger.” Steve grinned and Bucky’s eyes widened. He jumped from the chair, grabbing Steve and putting him in a headlock before he could get away.

Just like that, all seemed to be well and forgotten again as the two of them playfully fought. That was the thing with the two of them. They may fight or be angry with each other, but the feeling was always fleeting. As tempered and stubborn as both men could be, their moods rarely crashed, and they always seemed to be able to see through the other’s anger for what it really was. Concern, care, and love.


End file.
